Stages of Love
by i-will-mourn-the-wicked
Summary: Fiyero simply cannot grasp his feelings for Elphaba, that is, until she's right there in front of him.
1. Understanding

"No, you're not. Or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

 _Unhappy._

 _Unhappy?_

That one single word sliced through Fiyero like a freshly sharpened blade, attacking that vulnerability he worked so hard to hide as if it were nothing.

Of course he was happy, he was a prince, with a beautiful woman on his arm, loved by all, wasn't he?

 _Loved by all._

 _Wasn't he?_

"I—well—I—" he swallowed, stammering through his response like an idiot. "Fine, if you don't want my help…."

He turned, away from the green women, away from her easy insight into him, away from her prying eye, away from the fear of admitting that she was right, exposing that fear, accepting the fact that she was right.

He wasn't ready to say it aloud.

He was too afraid to say it aloud.

But he was even more afraid of her ability to see that.

So he began to leave, walk away from the crushing responsibility that he refused to face head-on.

Fiyero had taken all of about five or so steps before her voice cut through the silence again.

"No, I do…!"

And then, he felt it.

Her grasp on him.

But it wasn't just the weight of her words this time, it was the grip of her long, green fingers wrapping around his own.

That tingling, almost sparking feeling was too intense to ignore.

He turned, glancing down, unable to take his eyes off that small but oh-so-strong hand clutching his, keeping him from walking any further, keeping him from moving at all, keeping him from breathing.

Her hand was like any other hand—no, that wasn't quite right. Hers was different, different than the soft, petite, manicured hand of Galinda.

Her grip was firm but gentle, gentle enough as not to hurt him, but firm enough to keep him from pulling away.

Though he wasn't quite sure he would have wanted to pull away even if he could.

Before he could register what he was doing, he had ran his thumb across the skin of her knuckles, the back of her hand, marvelling at how such a strong woman could feel so soft and smooth. The extra touch only fueled the slamming of his heart in his chest, so much so that he was afraid she could hear it.

His eyes travelled from Elphaba's fingers to her face, taking in the shocked expression written all over it, the way she held his gaze with no hesitation, despite the clear embarrassment radiating off of her.

Fiyero didn't ever want to let go of her. His entire body ached with a longing that he had never felt before—but not in the way he usually longed for a woman. Maybe he did long to kiss her, deep down, somewhere in his subconscious, but at that very moment, his desire was different. Purer, softer, sweeter.

All he wanted was to tug her close to him, hold her in his arms, and never let go.

Maybe it was because he was finally realizing the full extent of what this woman had gone through. Maybe it was because he was unconsciously relieved that she had said what she said—after all, that would mean he had finally found someone who understood him.

Or maybe it was because just then, in that moment, _he_ had understood _her_.

Fiyero was much too afraid to act on this longing, though, and before he'd had a chance to go through with what he so desperately wanted to do, Elphaba had yanked her hand away in a tizzy and ran to the cage containing the Lion cub, bending over it, reaching her fingers through the bars.

"I...I didn't meant to frighten him," she said in a small voice, a tone that jabbed at Fiyero's chest.

He drew in a breath as an attempt to compose himself, his heart still fluttering in his chest like a caged butterfly, before he spoke.

"What did you mean to do, then?" he questioned, making his way back towards her, kneeling beside her, "and why was I the only one you didn't do it to?"

Elphaba turned, her mouth open and ready to throw out a retort, before the man's sudden closeness shocked her into silence.

There was a long, agonizing few moments of complete quiet before she parted her lips again to say, "You're bleeding."

Fiyero almost didn't hear the green woman's trembling tone. The prince was much too focused on the close proximity of her face. He was seeing her in a light that he'd never seen her in before.

Elphaba's skin was flushed, not pink or red like his was, but a richer, darker green color spreading from her cheeks down her neck. Her earthy brown eyes were still blazing with the fire and passion from the chaos earlier, but were now wider, softer, gentler, as she gazed upon his face, strands of her hair hindering their view. Fiyero's hand twitched with the urge to lift his arm and brush the smooth tresses away from her face, to tuck them behind her ear, to feel his knuckles brush against her cheek and along her beautifully defined jaw.

 _Wait_.

He couldn't afford to be thinking those things about the green girl. He was in love with Galinda, beautiful Galinda.

Beautifully shallow, superficial Galinda.

Suddenly, the blonde didn't seem so perfect to him anymore.

Fiyero was snapped out of his trance when he noticed Elphaba's lips were moving.

Those beautiful, dark emerald lips, so close to his that if he leaned forwards enough….

 _No_.

 _Galinda_.

 _Not Elphaba._

 _Galinda_.

It wasn't until Fiyero heard Elphaba let slip a quiet gasp that he realized what he was doing.

His arm had moved with a mind of its own, his hand every so lightly touching her cheek, his fingers twined with the ebony locks falling in her face, dragging them back agonizingly slowly across her cheekbone before he could finally tuck them behind her ear.

But he didn't stop there, didn't pull his hand away.

Instead, he left it there, his thumb resting on her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from it, his palm cradling her neck just underneath her ear.

When he finally took his eyes off his hand against her skin and met her gaze again, he saw how wide her own eyes were, frozen, almost reminding him of a deer caught in the beam lights of an oncoming train.

Those beautiful lips were parted slightly in what Fiyero assumed was shock.

That only made him want to kiss her more.

But it wasn't until Elphaba moved, leaning ever so slightly into his touch, pressing her cheek into his hand in the lightest way possible, her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed just the smallest amount, that he just couldn't take it anymore.

He couldn't sit still any longer.

Fiyero shot up on his knees, entangling his other hand into her black locks, securing his grip on her, pulling her up with him and crushing his lips against hers.

The kiss was messy, sloppy, almost forced, and completely one-sided. Elphaba went completely rigid, her spine stiffening, her eyelids snapping open in surprise. It wasn't until Fiyero felt her palms press against his chest, pushing him backwards, crudely ripping them apart, that he pulled his own hands away, falling back on his calves, his face wild with shock and guilt.

Elphaba wasn't saying anything legible, just stuttering out gibberish that neither of them could understand, her face painted the darkest shade of green Fiyero had ever seen, her hands flailing with over-exaggerated gestures as she clambered to her feet.

And then, he saw it.

The glassy sheen of tears over her eyes.

That was when he realized he had gone much too far.

Before he could gather his thoughts enough to apologize, to ease the pangs of shame in his chest, she'd disappeared in a flurry of green, blue, and white.

Fiyero leaned forwards, curling into himself, burying his face into his hands with a groan of shame and regret.

 _"Goddamnitt, what have I done?"_


	2. Regret

Listening to his now-fiance, the beautiful, blonde Glinda, insist to the Ozians below her that she was the happiest she had ever been, her as well as the man she loved, made Fiyero sick with the inaccuracy of it all.

He had never been more miserable.

The woman he truly loved, _not_ his fiance, was gone from his life with almost no warning, and no opportunity for the apology that he had so desperately tried to give her.

Thinking about it made his stomach lurch.

 _"Right, dear?"_

Glinda's words snapped him back from his wallowing in sadness, forcing him to plaster a smile onto his face and nod, to reassure her.

After all, she'd been going through enough, he couldn't selfishly tack his own pain and suffering onto that.

But there was something about what those Ozians were saying, those _rumors_ they were spreading, that made Fiyero's blood begin to boil. His knuckles went white as his fingers clenched around the metal bar squaring off him and Glinda from the public, his eyes stinging from the strain of fighting back tears of anger.

"I hear her soul is so unclean, pure water can melt her!"

 _"What?"_

The cry was out of his mouth before he even fully registered what the citizen was saying.

"Water will _melt her?"_

"Please, dearest—" Glinda began an attempt to console him, gripping his arm, turning him towards her, but he didn't let her, twisting from her grasp and bounding down the stairs, tripping and stumbling as far away from the horrific event as his legs could take him.

It wasn't until Fiyero got back to the palace, through the long halls, and into his own quarters that he allowed the dam to break. He sobbed and sobbed, harder than he ever had before, falling over himself onto the floor, onto his knees, a hand clamped over his mouth to muffle the painful wails threatening to spill from his lips.

If only he had gone after her, ran after her, instead of sitting there dumbfounded like an idiot.

If only he'd gotten to her in time, told her how he felt.

If only he'd apologized for going too far.

But he hadn't done a single one of those things, and he _hated_ himself for it.

This realization only forced more sobs up his throat, his entire body heaving, his gut twisting into a sickening knot.

Fiyero wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to calm himself down. His head, his throat, his chest throbbed with a dull, painful ache as he was reduced to a shaking, blubbering puddle on the floor. Every time the pain began to subside, an image of Elphaba flashed behind his eyelids, an image of her, bottom lip shaking, eyes flooded with unshed tears, and he was thrown back into now-silent sobs once again.

" _Elphaba I'm sorry…!"_ he wailed aloud, to no one in particular, maybe to himself. "I'm so, so sorry, I should've known, I should've realized, I should've...I should've…!"

"And now you'll never forgive me," Fiyero whimpered, "and I'll never see you again."

 _I'll never...see her again._


	3. Love

Neither Fiyero nor Elphaba knew what to say first. They hadn't had much time to speak in the chaos and panic of the scene earlier, or the chase into the forest, let alone think about what they could even say in the first place.

So he said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry."

"For what?"

God, how he had missed her voice.

"For... everything," he admitted, letting out a breath. "For not trying to find you, for being too afraid to be honest with you, for...for...for pushing you too far."

His last comment elicited a high, ringing laugh from the green woman.

"Fiyero," she smiled, her gaze softening, "you thought...that day...you thought I was upset with _you_?"

"...Yes?"

His response made Elphaba laugh yet again. "Oh, Fiyero, I wasn't upset because of _you_ , if anything, you…." she trailed off, just for a moment, averting her gaze, from shyness, he realized, before continuing. "...What you did...I was upset with myself for being too stiff to respond."

A wave of relief washed over him, his muscles relaxing, a sigh of relief slipping past his lips. "I was so worried that I'd hurt you, that you hated me—"

"If anything, it was the opposite, Fiyero."

The green girl was yet again driving him mad with how close she was.

But this time, he didn't have to hold back.

There were no limits at that moment, not as long as he had her.

Fiyero lifted a hand and dragged it slowly, gently through her hair, the strands even softer and silkier than he remembered. He watched as Elphaba pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before a smile formed across her face, smiling to himself when she yet again tilted her head to lean into his touch. She reached up her own hands, arms shaking with the fear and excitement of a first time, her fingers brushing over his face before settling on his neck.

"Go ahead," the witch breathed, her voice raspy, noticing the hesitation in his eyes, the way he raised his eyebrows as if asking for permission.

His lips twitched up into a smirk before he brought her closer to him, closing the gap between them, one arm snaking around her back, his other hand still tangled in her hair. Elphaba arched into him, her fingers tracing down his chest a ways before resting there, almost as if she wasn't sure what to do with them.

Fiyero rose up on his knees, pulling Elphaba up with him, in no way breaking the kiss, their lips and tongues working together, the green girl finally figuring out what to do with her hands, wrapping them around his neck.

Elphaba jumped ever so slightly in surprise when the prince detached his lips from hers and shifted his attention towards her neck, which caused him to lift his head and glance at her, making sure that she gave him a nod before he continued, his hands roaming all over her body, his teeth ever-so-slightly skimming over her skin, eliciting a low moan from her throat, which only served to drive him even more, his fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.

Another moan rumbled from Elphaba's throat when Fiyero dragged a hand down to her thigh, causing her own hand to slide into his hair, gripping it tightly as she tilted her head to allow him greater access.

Slowly, the more intense his kisses got, and the more electricity that coursed through her body, Elphaba found herself gaining confidence, enough to secure her other hand against Fiyero's chest, pushing him to the ground beneath her, her hair falling over him, their faces heated and flushed, chests rising and falling in rapid succession, still breathless from the earlier kisses.

The twinkle in Fiyero's eye betrayed his sentiments, enough to prepare Elphaba for the switch in position, though not that she minded lying there now trapped beneath the handsome man leaning over her.

"Fae," he breathed, the nickname just slipping out.

It seemed to have the desired effect, because combined with his fierce kisses to her neck and chest, as well as his hands gripping her hips, his words made Elphaba practically writhe with pleasure. He peppered kisses up her jaw and beneath her ear before lightly nipping her earlobe, making the green women yelp.

The sight of Elphaba sprawled out beneath him, her hair spread around her head, lips parted, panting lightly, face and neck flushed that beautiful dark green, her collar pulled down low, practically drove Fiyero up the wall.

This time it was her who lifted herself up, her arms locking around his neck, lips locking with his, and as soon as his own arms had secured around her lower back, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, shocking him so much that he almost fell backwards.

The two lovers kissed so fiercely, held each other so tight, it was almost as if they were still trying to make sure that this moment, this moment they'd longed for for so long, wasn't just a fleeting dream brought on by stress and lack of sleep.

They were glad to know that was not the case at all.

Fiyero's lips on hers, Elphaba's legs around his waist, their fingers clinging to the fabric of each other's clothes, was, in fact, very real.

His tongue danced over hers, her hands gripped his hair, their chests pressed together, heat flying through their bodies, electrifying the air around them.

Not one single moment was to be wasted.

Fiyero's kisses moved to her neck once more, her collarbone, just above her breast, tearing another moan from deep in her throat, causing her hips to jerk into his, pulling a groan past his own lips. They worked as a unit, lips, tongues, hands, hearts slamming, breaths mixing, bodies pressed so close together there was no room in between.

That night, the witch and the prince shone brighter than the moon itself.

Eventually, they came down from the high, tangled in each other's arms, foreheads touching, hair all riled up from passion and lust, the light breeze cooling the heat between them.

"Yero, my hero," Elphaba breathed, giggling softly as he buried his face into her neck, planting light, gentle kisses onto her skin.

"Yes, my darling Fae?" Fiyero murmured, nibbling at the spot just above her collarbone, making her squeal.

"I wish that…."

"You wish what?"

"That I could...be beautiful. For you," she finished, sitting up, snaking her arms around her stomach.

"Fae…." he said in a breathy whisper. "Fae, don't...don't say that, you're—"

"Please, _please_ don't tell me that I am," she mumbled, pressing her lips together. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

"I would never lie to you," he replied, lifting himself off the ground, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on."

This prompted Elphaba to snort, shaking her head, laughing his comment off. "You must not have laid eyes on many women, then."

Fiyero let out a long sigh before gently turning the green witch around to face him, tilting up her chin when she dropped her gaze to the grass below them.

"Look at me, Elphaba," he pleaded, his voice low, but kind. "Look at me and listen to me. I don't _ever_ want to hear you say that you aren't beautiful. Because you _are_. Your eyes, your hair, your lips, your face, your skin—"

Elphaba laughed out loud, almost a cackle, on his comment about her skin. "Oh _please_ , Fiyero—"

"Let me finish," he interrupted, his eyes blazing with a loving glow. "I adore your looks, Fae, green and all."

"Then you're a fool or blind, Fiyero, or both."

"Maybe I am a blind fool," he continued, "but that won't change the fact that I am hopelessly, madly, head over heels in love with you, Elphaba, and nothing you say or do will ever change that. Not only are you beautiful—"

"—Oh, stop."

" _Please_ let me finish, just listen to me," he begged, cupping her hands between his and pressing them to his chest. "Not only are you beautiful, but...but you...Oz, Fae, my beloved Fae, you're incredible. You're strong, stronger than me, stronger than anyone I've ever seen, you're passionate, proud, stubborn, sometimes to a fault, my dear, but that only makes me love you more. You're kind, so, so kind, and selfless, Fae, you love so easily but so, so intensely, and it's all these things—everything about you, Fae—that are the reasons I've fallen so hard for you."

And he didn't stop there. "I love you so much that I would do anything for you, Fae, my precious Fae."

Elphaba sat, chewing on her lip, her cheeks darkening with embarrassment as she shifted her position. "Yero, I don't...I don't know what to say to that."

"You don't have to say anything," he assured her, placing a quick kiss to her lips. "I love you, Elphaba. I love you, Fae, my darling Fae, and I...I always will, as long as I'm alive."

"That's what...that's what I don't understand, Yero."

"What…?"

"Look at me," she laughed, but bitterly, blinking sudden tears from her eyes.

"I _am_ looking at you, and you're taking my breath away."

"Fiyero—"

"No, please listen to me, my love," he insisted, letting go of her hands in order to cradle her face, running his thumb gently over her cheek, a smile stretching across his lips when she again leaned into his hand. "Just listen to me. I have never wanted, never loved anyone in my life more than I want and love you, and nothing is ever going to change that, Fae, not the Wizard, not Morrible, not the Gale Force, not even death. You are my world, my life, my love, my everything, and I promise you that I will make sure you are happy, safe, and loved for the rest of your life, Fae. I promise you, I will never stop loving you for a single clock-tick, I will never let you go, I will never let anyone or anything in this world hurt you ever again, my darling. You're all that I think about, all that I need, all that I'll ever need. You were my dream, Fae, and now you're my reality, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you know how much I love and adore you." He stopped for a moment to bring her face closer to his until her forehead was resting against his. "You are the most beautiful, wonderful, incredible woman I have ever met, and I swear on my own soul that I will love you with everything I have until this rotten world crumbles around us."

"Yero, my hero," Elphaba whimpered, her voice trembling, thick with emotion. "I've never...no one has ever said anything even _close_ to that to me before."

"Well, you'd better get used to it, my darling, my dear, my lovely Fae, because you're going to be hearing it a lot more often."

Yet another whimper slipped past Elphaba's lips, her shoulders shaking, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks, prompting Fiyero to kiss them away, running a gentle hand through her hair, and another down her back.

"Shh, my love," he murmured, "you don't have to cry…."

"Yero, Yero, Yero my hero," she hiccupped, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. "You have...no idea...how much I wanted... _needed_...to hear something like that...from you…!"

Fiyero gathered the green women in his arms, landing a reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

"I will never let you go, my Fae," he insisted, his voice hoarse, "and from this moment on until the end of time, I promise to hold you and love you and make sure you are never, _ever_ , alone again."

"I love you so much, Yero, my hero," Elphaba sobbed, snuggling even closer to him.

"And I love you, my darling Fae," Fiyero replied with a smile, "forever, always."


End file.
